FICTIONAL STORY – One World, One Girl Chapter 9, Burning Books and (almost) Spilling Blood

Hiroshi Suzuki did everything his father did, only at a later time. He was born in the 1920s to his father’s true wife (Thank god) somewhere in Japan (I’m still not entirely sure where they lived at the time) and proved to everyone that he was going to be extremely vicious, every from the beginning. As a child, he was the one everyone feared. He was the big bully who made even the most shrewd people scared. Anyone who got in his way and disputed with him was screwed. Hiroshi told me of a number of stories he journaled and wrote as a kid detailing many of the worst things he did in his rising years. He would also write about these in later years after the Second World War, although I don’t want to spoil what’s happening in the next chapter (Just keep reading) These sound bad, but it’s mild compared to the level of the attrocities he would soon commit later on. Here’s just a few of them.

At the age of four, I heard the earliest story of a bad thing he ever did. This one started over something seemingly small— a teacher in their school was simply handing out candy to the class. Hiroshi, being already the biggest and baddest, assumed out of arrogance that he would be allowed to have two since he considered himself to be superior to everyone else. He was shocked to find out that everyone in the class was going to have just one piece, and he instantly lost it. According to his later memoir and writings, one child who had gotten a specific flavor he preferred was harassed by him into giving up their candy to him for free, but when the child refused, there was a physical fight which ended up injuring the kid’s nose. Luckily, the teacher intervened to prevent Hiroshi from totally annihilating his classmate, but Hiroshi remembered that the kid was put out of school action for a few weeks after that incident. 

At the age of eight, another incident occurred in which Hiroshi, an incredibly studious guy, was in a rivalry with another boy named Akira, who he often competed with for first place in the class. In their younger years, they competed simply by trying to outstudy the other, but as Hiroshi got older, he developed a more hostile approach to dealing with Akira. Hiroshi actually wrote about this incident in his memoir. Take a look: (Yes, I needed to buy an English copy to read this)

 

From “The Regrets and Redemption of a Heartless Warrior” by Hiroshi Suzuki

Three nights before the exam, it came to light that Akira, struggling with the mathematical concepts our teachers had assured us would be on the test, would review the material in advance. The prospect of his victory and my defeat was too large for me to bear – I feared the symbolism this would strengthen, the power this would feed him and the prestige I would lose. And a plan for this built up in my mind…. He could not study without books.

After my daily oyatsu or afternoon snack, I stole a pack of fire starters from my father’s old military bag and went down to Arika’s house, which I had tracked down some months previously. Without detection, I snuck into his study room, carried all of the books out of his study room while his family talked in the hallway. I took precise care not to be detected, even briefly concealing myself in a closet when he briefly entered his room. Finally, I finished surveying his room for anything of value I needed to take from him and moved straight outside, where for some reason I simply was unable to wait any longer. I pulled out my matches, set all the books down in front of his door, and lit them on fire.

I watched in happiness as the opportunities of my rival burned away- I was sabotaging his effort, ruining it, tearing it to shreds… I felt as if all of his intelligence was being ripped away with one simple match… I was lost in thought, lost in the sight of the flames, when Akira suddenly swung the door open, followed closely behind by his parents. “What’re you doing?!” He spat in my face. “Are those my books?”

“Yes,” I spat back. “They are yours.”

Seeing his parents round up on me, I knew I had to run. Only being eight, I did not yet stand a chance in a physical fight against the adults. I lit another match and threw it past the door and into their house. We all watched as the wooden floors and walls caught on fire, and within a few seconds I had darted off into the night, having hindered Akira’s progress to the best of my own ability. In a way, it did work- their family wasn’t the richest, and it took a while before they could afford to pay for new ones in good condition the way he liked it- unfortunately for me, he still got a better score on the mathematics exam.

This wasn’t the only time that Hiroshi burned his rivals’ things, and as he kept doing this, he was disciplined to huge levels for these actions. His family was forced to engage in bribery in order to keep him from getting disciplined several times, but eventually it didn’t work, and Hiroshi was done. Hiroshi was about to be sent somewhere that would turn his disobedient and (kind of) carefree self into a further brutal person. He was about to join the Japanese military.

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